


Ghosts

by yggdrasill



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Angst, Love, M/M, Melancholy, Memories, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-29 23:10:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14483256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yggdrasill/pseuds/yggdrasill
Summary: Even with Oliver gone from Elio's life, his enduring mark on the adolescent and the pain caused by his absence was inescapable.





	Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little piece that I was immediately inspired to write after watching the film. This was completed very quickly and not edited too much, so I may come back to it, but it is intended as a solo piece. 
> 
> Alsooo, I do plan on reading the book so may write more on this work in the future. Hope you enjoy, any feedback is welcome and extremely appreciated!!!

“ _Elio…_ ” his voice carried with the wind, like a faint whisper, caressing the trees as they rustled in the early morn. Elio. The wind rattled at the shutters and the cold chill spread throughout the room, causing the tiny hairs on his back to stand on end. With a sigh, his head buried in tousled sheets as clenched fists constricted around linen. “ _Call me by your name, and I will call you by mine._ ” The words that had been uttered in this very room, under these very sheets. Elio took a deep breath, taking in the faint scent that remained on Oliver’s sheets. If he held his breath long enough, with closed eyes Elio could feel him again; his face pressed against his chest, his breath quickened yet at ease as condensation formed upon Elio’s neck. His scent was fading, the physical remnants of his short stay at the villa waning; and yet as each day passed, Oliver’s mark on Elio’s mind and body seemed infinite. Elio had asked himself what difference did it make, pondering on what had been and what could never be again, yet it did not stop him from returning to the bed they had shared, sheets unchanged, in a hope of reliving the moment. He had relived it a thousand times already, and would relive it a thousand times more if it meant Oliver remained close to him. Even if it was only a ghost of what had been.

Another gust of wind spilled out into the bedroom, tracing cool fingers up and down his spine. With closed eyes he could imagine Oliver’s hand tracing along his back, causing the hairs to stand on end and a lump to form in his throat. He placed a hand down his shorts and could feel himself getting hard. 

The sun had begun to rise and birds were beckoning in the morning. With a sigh, Elio pulled his hand out from his clothes, slamming his fist dejectedly on the mattress. “A _ghost_.” He said dryly, pushing up against the bed. Swinging his legs over the frame, his gaze followed out of the window and to the tree that rustled in the breeze. It swayed in unison with the others, in perfect harmony and acquiescent. Elio had looked out at the very same tree the first night he and Oliver had spent together, each moving in perfect harmony, in unison; he was both Elio _and_ Oliver. Since that night they had become one and the same, a part of each soul bonded with the other, both mentally and physically

Since their parting it felt as though this rhythm had been disrupted, his sequence fragmented and vacuous; incongruous and irredeemable. 


End file.
